


It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by were1993



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, day 1: cheolsoo - all i want for christmas is you, day 2: wonhui - dashing through the snow in highheels, day 3: juncheol - o christmas tree, day 4: cheolgyu - jingle bell rock, day 5: gyuhao - let it snow, day 6: gyuhao - i saw mommy kissing santa claus, day 7: junshua - angels we have heard on high
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/were1993/pseuds/were1993
Summary: 13 requested holiday song fics leading up to Christmas!12/31: okay, the end of the year isn't gonna happen, but i will finish these.





	1. Cheolsoo - All I Want for Christmas is You

[12/13: Cheolsoo - All I Want For Christmas Is You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXQViqx6GMY)

\---

_I don’t want a lot for Christmas / There is just one thing I need_

\---

Lying on the bed, Joshua stares at the ceiling of his dark bedroom.

Even though it’s only five in the afternoon, the skies are purple with fading streaks of orange in the west, and the flickering streetlights are casting strange shadows on his walls. Beyond the closed door, Joshua can hear the entirety of his church packed in the kitchen and living room—the mothers busy getting together dinner and the kids fighting over the Xbox.

And he’s missed this. 

After spending his college years and even finding a job in Korea, he’s missed celebrating Christmas in Los Angeles. Joshua missed the constant bustle before the holiday season—going to choir practice, setting up for the annual Christmas play and putting together fundraisers. He’s missed sneaking out with his friends in between practices to stuff their face with tacos and greasy fries. He’s missed his mother—

Joshua turns over in his bed and plays with the threads of his bedsheets. He missed all of that, yes, but he also misses the snow and snuggling into fluffy scarves and holding hands in the pocket of thick winter coats.

He misses Seoul, the rowdy group he calls his friends and the frustrating man he calls his boyfriend.

\---

_I don’t care about the presents / Underneath the Christmas tree_

\--- 

Joshua rolls over in his bed again and fumbles for the phone charging on his nightstand. It takes a couple of pulls before he successfully disconnects the charger from his phone. Rolling onto his back again, Joshua scrolls through his notifications. 

He has twenty-seven messages from friends and coworkers with Christmas cheers and not one of them was from his boyfriend, Choi Seungcheol.

_I’ll ask but I don’t know if they’ll give me enough time off to go to the States_ , Seungcheol had said with defeated puppy dog eyes. And Joshua understands.

Seungcheol just started working at the company about a year ago, and Joshua is proud that his boyfriend became an indispensable part of his team already! But that also meant Seungcheol was the first person they called to put together the department’s end of the year report.

_It’s fine, maybe next year_ , Joshua had said at the airport. They hugged and said goodbye with a cheesy, _guess I’ll see you next year._

_Oh, how painful the distance will be!_ Seungcheol laughed with a dramatic flair of his arms. While Jisoo laughed along, something squeezed uncomfortably in his chest like a truth he’d rather not admit.

Yeah, he was going home, but he was also leaving another home. A home he built for himself. The distance was a little— _ouch_!

Distracted, Joshua loses grip of his phone and accidentally drops it on his face. It breaks his train of thought and possibly his nose as well. Groaning in pain, Joshua clutches his nose and rocks side to side.

“ _Joshua!_ ” his mother calls. “Stop hiding in your room!”  

“Just five more minutes,” Joshua mutters into his hands. It’s amazing that his mother hadn’t called him earlier.

\---

_I just want you for my own / More than you could ever know_

\---

Joshua casts one more forlorn glance at his phone. He isn’t lonely—with the hustle and bustle of preparing for dinner, it’s a Christmas miracle he got _any_ time to himself—but he’s so used to hearing from Seungcheol daily. He’s been spoiled, waking up to good morning texts and calling during the other’s lunch breaks.

The sudden radio silence the past two days is a little unsettling. 

But Joshua is a calm and rational adult. He knows holidays are a busy time for family and friends and, well, sometimes significant others, but hey! Seungcheol probably has family stuff going on and just forgot to let Joshua know. 

And so he sends a very calm and rational kakao message.

_Can’t call tonight_

_‘Cause you know, family’s over_

_Hope you are having a good Christmas_  

Joshua stares at the message and sighs. Okay, he feels a little bad so he adds: 

_Love and miss you Cheol-ah <3_

_Maybe we can call tomorrow?_

“Joshua Hong, did you hear me the first time?!” his mother calls again. “Your friend is here!” 

“Coming!” Joshua yells back. He gets up from the bed and shoves his phone into his back pocket. Joshua doesn’t see the _seen_ pop at the bottom of his messages and stumbles into the living room. “Kevin, you little shit, you’re late—” 

_“_ Jisoo, _language_. _”_  

Joshua pauses. Kevin has never called him Jisoo—he’s not even sure his childhood friend knew what his Korean name was.

Joshua looks up. That’s not Kevin. That is a very not-Kevin standing in the hallway.

Is that _—_

“Hey, Merry Christmas,” Seungcheol greets, licking his lips. He fiddles with the handle of his suitcase nervously. “Uh, so they gave me the next two weeks off and I thought it might be a nice surprise—and remember that airline credit from a while ago? So it's not like I dropped major money to buy last-minute holiday tickets, I promise.”

Joshua stares. Yep, that’s Seungcheol still wrapped up in a winter coat too thick for the LA winter. He’s imagined this—Seungcheol here in his home—but Joshua didn’t think he’d see it.

At least not this year.

“And to answer your message,” Seungcheol says with a boyish smile. “I’m having a great Christmas now that you’re here."

"You're ridiculous," Jisoo answers. "I've been here. It should be now that  _you_ are here."

"So you're also having a great Christmas then?" Seungcheol asks hopefully. "Now that I'm here?" 

Jisoo smiles and shrugs— _I guess_.

"Shua!" Seungcheol whines. He abandons his suitcase and pulls Jisoo into a bear hug. "I flew economy for 12 hours for you!"

_You're ridiculous_ , Jisoo thinks, burying his nose into the puffy winter jacket. It smells like an economy flight, but it also smells a little like Seungcheol. _Now that you're here, I'_ _m having a fucking amazing Christmas._

\---

[Make my wish come true oh / All I want for Christmas if you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXQViqx6GMY)

\---

Aside:

“Uh—you’re not actually mad at me are you?” Seungcheol asks, pulling away from the hug. He opens his mouth with explanations, but he’s cut off.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Seungcheol,” Joshua’s mother interrupts in Korean. She’s still in her apron and elbow high gloves. “How was the flight? Or rather how was the traffic leaving the airport—” 

“ _Mom you knew_ —?”

"Yes, I knew,” his mother says, shoving her own son aside and moving forward to give Seungcheol a half hug. “I’m sorry our Jisoo isn’t quite the romantic. Anyone else would have been thrilled for their boyfriend to surprise them like this—”

“ _Mom!_ ”

\---


	2. Wonhui - Dashing Through the Snow in Highheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (It’s cold but I’m wearing pretty clothes / It’s snowing but I’m wearing high heels)
> 
> “Ge, you’re going to freeze in that,” Minghao says with a frown.
> 
> “I’ll be fine,” Junhui answers briskly, scrutinizing at his reflection carefully.

[ **Dashing Through the Snow in Highheels** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=us1EjTo80WE)

_\---_

_It’s cold but I’m wearing pretty clothes / It’s snowing but I’m wearing high heels_

_\---_

“ _Ge_ , you’re going to freeze in that,” Minghao says with a frown.

“I’ll be fine,” Junhui answers briskly, scrutinizing at his reflection carefully.

Minghao lays half-reclined on his bed and stares at the older with a skeptic look. Being in the younger’s room, Junhui knows he invited the judgment on himself, but Minghao has the only full-length mirror in the entire apartment. He wasn’t about to leave on his date without a complete inspection of his outfit!

Twisting back and forth, Junhui checks the folds and creases on his slim fit black jeans and thin white turtleneck sweater. He can’t have his clothes creating unattractive bulges because he forgot to tuck something in nicely!

Feeling good about his mirror reflection, Junhui swings on the gray oversized pea coat. Perfect. The collar opens just enough to see the delicate charm necklace. Junhui smiles, flipping the silver ballerina three times for good luck. The necklace had been a gag birthday gift from his dance students, but— _Junnie, is that you? A pretty little ballerina?_

Junhui flushes. That had been the first time Wonwoo called him pretty and—

“你穿那么少会冻死的,” Minghao says with a raised eyebrow as though speaking in Chinese would change Junhui’s mind. _You’re going to freeze to death wearing so little._

“我会带个围巾,” Junhui answers agitatedly. It’s not going to change his mind. _I’ll wear a scarf._

“I thought you guys’ date was going around to see Christmas lights at a park or something,” Minghao reasons. “It’s going to be all outdoors and you’re going to turn into a popsicle.”

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” Junhui retorts. He knows he’s quite underdressed for the 3 degree Celcius weather outside. The pea coat looks deceivingly warm, but it’s terribly thin. It’s more of a fashion item for the early fall, and Minghao knows that. “And it’s not a date.”

Wonwoo just asked him if he were interested in seeing the Christmas lights at the park. It’s something Junhui’s been bugging their friends about for years, but most of the couples would rather go together like the traitor—Minghao promised to go with him last year but ditched him for Mingyu. 

“Since it’s not a date, you can wear some extra layers underneath,” Minghao wheedles. “I need someone to help pay the rent next month.”

“I’ll look ugly,” Junhui answers.

“You—you are _not_ ugly,” Minghao sighs.

“I’ll look puffy,” Junhui amends. Turning around, he holds up a white scarf and a red one. Minghao points to the red— _your turtleneck is already white_. Junhui drops the white scarf and wraps the red one around his neck loosely. He turns back to the mirror to inspect his new accessory. “I just want to look good okay?”   

“Wonwoo-hyung is going to meet you in a huge jacket with like sweats underneath,” Minghao says, rolling towards the edge of his bed. Minghao rummages for something in his nightstand drawer and throws it at Junhui’s back. “Take those and remember to put on some lip balm before you go out—”

“We’re not going to kiss!” Junhui squeaks. “And whatever you hit me with better not be condoms!”

“—so your lips don’t crack is what I was going to say,” Minghao says dryly. “No, those were hot packs, but I mean”—Junhui freezes at the sound of things shifting, oh god, he has no doubt Minghao has condoms—“if you _want_ …" 

“No thank you!” Junhui says quickly, grabbing the two hot packs off the floor and shoving them in his coat pockets. He flees the room and hears Minghao bursting out in laughter.

“I ran out two days ago!”

“Too much information!” Junhui calls back. He snatches his wallet and keys off the dining room table and makes a beeline towards the exit. He’s already pulled one boot on before pausing and touching his lips gently.

Using his bootless foot, Junhui hops into the bathroom and grabs the first lip balm on the counter. He carefully applies some and even smacks his lips for good measure. They’re not going to kiss but—Junhui chuckles in embarrassment—there’s not wrong with being prepared, right?

“Just take it with you.”

Junhui jumps at the sight of Minghao’s reflection in the bathroom mirror and barely catches the edge of the sink.

“Just in case,” Minghao says with a cheeky smile.

Junhui huffs and shoves Minghao aside, but he does pocket the lip balm.

Just in case.

\---

_I want to walk all night with you_

\---

Waiting at the entrance of the park, Wonwoo is indeed in a large jacket, but after a quick inspection, Junhui is satisfied to say Minghao is wrong: Wonwoo is wearing jeans— _not_ sweats.

“No one told me we were going to have a model photoshoot here,” Wonwoo frowns, giving Junhui a quick up and down look. Junhui hides a smile in his scarf. At least he’s not cold for nothing. “I would have dyed my hair to a fitting color.”

“Like that time it was green?” Junhui asks, bumping elbows with Wonwoo. His hands are deep in the pockets of his thin coat, and honestly, even with the hot packs, his fingers are frozen stiff. 

“That had been _mint green_ ,” Wonwoo scoffs with his nose high in the air. “Not just _any_ green.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Color Expert,” Junhui mocks. “I guess you’re going to tell me that my hair isn’t brown, it’s _chocolate chestnut_.”

“Nah, I was just going to say it’s pretty,” Wonwoo smiles, and Junhui chokes. “So are we going to see these lights so you can take your selfies or…”

“I didn’t just come here for the selfies!” Junhui argues. “I also wanted to”— _spend time with you_ —“uh, I wanted to take a walk!”

“Sure,” Wonwoo says, dragging out the word unnecessarily. “I guess I’m gracious enough to join you on this freezing walk to see the lights you’re not going to take selfies in front of.”

Puffing his cheeks, Junhui stalks forward into the park. Wonwoo jogs a couple steps to catch up and hooks their arms together. The angle is a little awkward as Wonwoo shoves his hand back in his own pocket, but Wonwoo is _so_ warm. Junhui automatically shuffles closer and glances at the other questioningly. 

“It’s cold,” Wonwoo shrugs. His hand burrows deeper into his jacket pockets, and it pulls Junhui towards him so they’re pretty much cuddled against each other. “You look pretty but cold.”

\--- 

_Today, it feels like everything will go well / I muster up courage and the white snow falls as if to show_

_\---_

The park is so over decorated with lights and holiday ornaments that it actually worked. The trees are glittering with lights that cascaded down their strings, and the shrubs each look like little Christmas trees. The stone walkway is lined with light up candy canes or snowmen, and the large floor piano twinkles with holiday tunes.

Just as Wonwoo predicted, Junhui stops at each little attraction to take a selfie—or rather many selfies.

“We literally just saw four gingerbread houses,” Wonwoo says in amusement. “You’ve taken at least ten selfies at each of them.”

“This one has a little gingerbread man!” Junhui insists.

“The last one had a gingerbread man too,” Wonwoo recalls. 

“Well, fine,” Junhui says. He reaches out to grab Wonwoo’s arm and pulls the other flush against him. “For the sake of variety, we’ll take a selfie together!”

“Is this our couple selfie?” Wonwoo asks.

Junhui stutters and accidentally presses the button on his phone. The picture catches Junhui’s wide eyes and Wonwoo’s mischievous smile.

“We—we need to take that again,” Junhui croaks.

“Okay,” Wonwoo agrees.

The second picture isn’t much better—Junhui is straining to smile normally and Wonwoo’s eyes are shut.

“Maybe we should take it again,” Wonwoo suggests. “Third time’s the charm.”

Junhui agrees—just one more time. Wonwoo puts an arm around Junhui’s waist and just as Junhui is about to press the capture, Wonwoo digs his fingers into the other’s side. Junhui laughs in surprise and _tap_.

The third picture is slightly blurry, but Junhui is in the middle of an open mouth laugh and Wonwoo is facing Junhui with that nose-crinkling smile. 

Third time is the charm.

_\---_

_Kiss me, Kiss me, Before this winter passes_

_\---_

“Aren’t you cold?” Wonwoo asks.

They’re taking a short break at the musical fountain, leaning against each other and watching the water weave patterns to _Jingle Bells_. Wonwoo bought them warm canned coffee, but Junhui had to leave it in his pocket—it burns his hands to hold the lukewarm can.

“I’m okay,” Junhui answers. He can’t feel his feet or his nose, but it’s okay! He looks great in these jeans and thermals would not have fit underneath these slim fits. 

“Too bad, I’m sweating,” Wonwoo says. He pushes Junhui off his shoulder gently and starts unzipping his jacket. Junhui watches in amazement as it revealed _another_ puffy jacket underneath. “I was waiting for you to complain and offer it to you like a gentleman, but it’s a sauna under this so here.”

“You—why do you have two winter jackets?” Junhui asks bemused. He follows Wonwoo’s nonverbal commands obediently—put arm through sleeve, turn, and put other arm in the other sleeve.

“Myungho texted me that my date tonight was trying to freeze himself to death,” Wonwoo answers. He turns Junhui around so they’re facing each other and starts fumbling to zip the jacket. Wonwoo manages to click the insertion pin into the slider and pulls the tab all the way up.

Junhui swallows audibly. Wonwoo has yet to let go of the pull tab, and they’re pretty much nose to nose. Junhui’s entire face and body are burning, and it’s not just from the warmth of the jacket. He thinks he can feel Wonwoo’s breath against his lips, and Junhui regrets not putting another coat of lip balm on.

“I knew you were prettier in pink than in blue,” Wonwoo smiles, seemingly amused at his own comparison. “As in, you know, you look nicer alive than half frozen to death?”

“Thanks,” Junhui breaths, licking his lips. Huh? Frowning, Junhui licks his lips again. There’s something like little drops of ice cold water on his— _oh_. “It’s snowing!”

Staring up at the dark night sky, Junhui watches little pieces of white drift down and collect in little white patches on the nearest surfaces—which included Wonwoo’s hair. He reaches out to tousle the other’s hair into a mess, but Junhui doesn’t expect the snow to powder Wonwoo’s face.

In the middle of a park filled with different colored lights, Wonwoo’s skin is glowing like a stained-glass panel and, with the additional dusting of snowflakes on that grimacing face, Junhui doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful.

“You’re just pretty,” Junhui blurts out.

Wonwoo opens his mouth and closes it wordlessly. Junhui watches in fascination as Wonwoo’s ears turn pink first. If this was the reaction he’s getting, Junhui will never go another day without saying it—nay, shouting it!

“I’m surprised you didn’t deny you were my date,” Wonwoo says, clearing his throat. 

“I—Is this a date?” Junhui asked. He’s not sure what he and Wonwoo have, but years of dating misadventures taught him to be very careful of assumptions. 

“No, I’m just here in freezing weather to take a friend out for a walk,” Wonwoo says deadpan. “ _Yes_ , this is a date.”

“I like you a lot,” Junhui confesses. He frowns. It’s a little less grandiose than he imagined his eventual confession to be, but then Wonwoo smiles—it’s wide and his smile lines are so deep and his eyes are almost closed—

“I like you a lot too,” Wonwoo answers. He pulls always and laughs loudly. “What are we in grade school?”

“Then can I kiss you?” Junhui asks, feeling suddenly much braver than before.

“ _Oh_ , we’ve gotten to middle school now,” Wonwoo teases.

“I’d jump to college but I don’t actually have condoms—”

“Middle school is great,” Wonwoo interrupts and leans forward.

“Ah! Wait!” Junhui exclaims, stopping Wonwoo’s incoming lips with his cold fingers. 

“You were the one who asked for the kiss,” Wonwoo grumbles. Sulking, he watches Junhui unzip his outer jacket and rummage in his pea coat pocket.  

“Here we go!” Junhui says cheerily, pulling out the stick of lip balm. He tugs the cap open and applies a quick layer. “I’m ready!”

"You—you,” Wonwoo sputters. “I can’t believe—just give me my kiss.”

 See? It’s always good to be prepared.

\--- 

[Love me, love me, as much as I love you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=us1EjTo80WE)

_\---_

Aside:

Junhui comes home alive, and Minghao still has a roommate to pay half of the rent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I-I have no excuse. This WAY longer than 1K and imma just die. Sorry it was so late, it's no longer 12/14 but let's pretend. 
> 
> This actually was supposed to be even LONGER, there was a hand holding segment, but i just didn't have a good lead into the kiss so i kinda scraped it LOL This is a ridiculously cute song LOL so i had lots of random cuddly ideas.
> 
> I'm going to pass out for a while before i work on the next chp. 
> 
> Juncheol next ^0^)/ exciting!!! I don't think i've ever written Juncheol *horrified gasp* omfg, o christmas tree started playing on spotify. it's a sign!!!


	3. Juncheol - O Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree / Forever true your colour)
> 
> “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Seungcheol says cautiously. 
> 
> “I—I think you’re right,” Junhui admits with a soft sigh.

[ **O Christmas Tree** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQLdqnICsS8)

**\---**

_O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree_

_Forever true your colour_

\---

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Seungcheol says cautiously.

“I—I think you’re right,” Junhui admits with a soft sigh.

They stare at the ten-foot tree cramped into their eight-foot tall living room. The tree slouches sadly as it bends to accommodate the shorter ceiling. Next to the rest of the artificial trees in the store, their tree looked very small in comparison. In fact, it had been the smallest one—which is an odd thought, who really has apartments large enough to house these monster trees?

Seungcheol likes to think of himself as practical—he’s not, but at least more practical than his boyfriend. Well, okay, they are both equally impractical and sentimental, but Junhui is always a step ahead.  While Seungcheol was still wondering where the tree would fit in their apartment, Junhui had already paid for it.

Seungcheol isn’t sure how they pulled the large box up three flights of stairs. It had been a combination of Junhui’s unrelenting optimism that the two of them were strong enough and Seungcheol’s stubborn refusal to let Junhui down.

He feels the aches settling into his shoulder already, but it’s worth the sloppy kiss on his cheek and the happy little twirl in the middle of the living room.

It took a little coordination and maybe pixie dust to assemble and push the tree upright, and it was then they realized their little dilemma.

“Do you think we can return it?” Junhui asks. He tilts his head at the angle of the bent tree.  

“I’m sure we can,” Seungcheol answers. “We still have the receipt, and I’m sure they’ve had plenty of people return these.”

“I guess we should have measured the ceiling,” Junhui laughs. He continues tilting his body until his cheekbone knocks against Seungcheol’s sore shoulder. “Thanks. You’ve worked hard.”

“Ouch! That hurts!” Seungcheol whines, pushing the other off. He uses a little too much force, and Junhui topples onto the couch. “Oh my god! That’s not what I meant to—!”

“ _Hyung_ , here I thought you loved me,” Junhui says in shock. Lying on the couch, he bites his lower lip and gives Seungcheol his best watery eyes. “宝宝心里苦—” _Baby’s sad inside—_

“I carried a ten-foot tree for you!” Seungcheol pouts, shaking his shoulders angrily.

“And I’m thankful!” Junhui laughs, bouncing onto his feet. He lands another sloppy kiss on Seungcheol’s other cheek and skips into their bedroom. “As a reward, I have pain relief patches! You can start dissembling the tree!”

“That’s not a reward at all!” Seungcheol calls. “That’s a punishment!”

“You’re the best!”

“I’m not taking the tree apart without you!” Seungcheol yells back. Their bedroom door swings shut in response. “I won’t start until you’re out here!”

There’s a muffled answer, but honestly, it could have just been Junhui talking to their boxes.

Sighing, Seungcheol looks around at the stacked-up boxes and piles of unsorted mail. There’s still so much to unpack, clean and organize—but this is _their_ apartment.

It feels like quite a miracle to be standing in a place of their own. They won’t have to worry about Myungho strolling into the living room unannounced or Jihoon snapping at them in the morning—not that Jihoon ever snaps at Junhui.

After deciding they would move in together, it took a good three years for them to sign the lease. Finding a suitable place had been harder than either of them had expected. They would go house hunting in the summer, but then work would get busy or Junhui needed to go back to China or Seungcheol’s parents visited. The winter would pass, and then they would repeat the entire cycle again come summer.

There was always something, and it started to look a little impossible.

“We’ll move in together before the end of the year!” Junhui had said for two years straight. And right after Chuseok, without fail, Junhui would rope Seungcheol into packing their Christmas ornaments. “For the tree in our new apartment!”

Even though both knew that they would just unpack the ornaments again in December for the little tree in Junhui and Minghao’s shared flat.

At some point, Seungcheol threw his hands up— _I’m going to be roommates with Jihoon forever and we can just have our stuff at each other’s places_ —but Junhui had been unrelenting.

“Hyung, I want to move in with you,” Junhui said. Once again, they were the putting the ornaments away in the autumn. “Even though I know we’re probably just going to open these boxes again in a couple of months, I don’t want us to stop trying.”

 _I want us to have our own place, our_ own _home._

At the time, Seungcheol didn’t known what to say, so he picked up the packing tape and started sealing the boxes.

_Me too. I want that too._

Apparently, at the time, that had been exactly what Junhui needed to hear.  

\---

_Your boughs so green in summertime_

_Stay bravely green in wintertime_

\---

Seungcheol spots the box of ornaments next to couch and laughs. After moving in, they haven’t had the chance to open anything, yet multicolored tinsel spills over the side of the open box.

Seungcheol kneels next to the box of Christmas ornaments Junhui’s stashed over the years. He grimaces as his knees hit the cold floor—ah, he’s getting old. Getting into a more comfortable sitting position, Seungcheol starts pulling out the long tinsel and digging through the hanging ornaments below.

He knows he’s making a mess, and Junhui will probably complain later. Still, there’s something exciting about taking out the ornaments in their _new_ home.

For years, they’ve packed them away only to open them again in the same place. While this tree wasn’t quite what they wanted, Seungcheol figures—

“Hey! You’re going to tangle all of the tinsel!”

Hearing quick footsteps from the bedroom, Seungcheol looks up with a mischievous smile, but it falls off quickly. His brain takes a moment to compute what he’s seeing, and when it does, Seungcheol bursts out in loud disbelieving laughter.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” Seungcheol asks. He gives his boyfriend an up and down look before collapsing onto the floor in giggles.

“I’m a Christmas tree,” Junhui says proudly. He puts his hands on his hips and juts out his pelvis. “Since we need to return that one, I’ll be our tree!”

To be honest, Seungcheol has no idea where Junhui managed to procure this Christmas tree costume. Junhui’s entire top half is covered with a green tree shaped paper with a bright yellow star tree topper and round cut out ornaments. While it was a sloppily constructed costume, that’s not what brought Seungcheol to tears.

It was the little oval shape cut into the tree with Junhui’s face peeking out from it.  

He looked like a holiday edition of No-Face from that one animated movie.

“Oh, come on, it’s not _that_ funny,” Junhui huffs.

“It—It’s pretty hilarious,” Seungcheol gasps, trying to recover from the laughter. He doesn’t try to get up from the floor and just stares up at Junhui. “Wh—where did you find that?”

“It was like a prop for some Christmas play I helped the kids make,” Junhui shrugs. The entire paper tree crinkles with him, and it sets Seungcheol off with a whole new peal of giggles. “Hey, I was pretty proud of how it turned out!”

“You’re missing tinsel,” Seungcheol chokes, struggling to get back on his feet. He manages to stand up and grabs the long sparkling strip off the floor. He throws it over Junhui, hooking it around the other’s waist. Using it as leverage, Seungcheol pulls his boyfriend flush against him. The paper crinkles noisily, and Seungcheol chuckles. “There. We have our tree.”

“Hm, you’re not very good at decorating,” Junhui smiles. He leans closer so they’re foreheads are touching. It takes every ounce of Seungcheol’s self-restraint not to laugh, but that face—! Peeking out of the paper—! Holiday No-Face—!

Junhui seems to sense that Seungcheol is about at his limit and presses their lips together. Seungcheol’s expecting a quick peck more than anything, but Junhui seems to have more in mind. It starts off gentle with their lips just moving slowly against each other—really touching more than kissing. Then Junhui tilts his head just a bit so their noses aren’t pressed together uncomfortably and nips at Seungcheol’s lower lip playfully.

Seungcheol lets go of the tinsel and let his hands settle around Junhui’s waist, pulling the other even closer. The paper crinkles between them, but Seungcheol doesn’t even notice—not with Junhui’s teasing nibbles and inviting groans.

“You’re not—you’re not good at decorating,” Junhui pants in between each open-mouthed kiss. “But I think you’re pretty good at unwrapping stuff.”

“How do I unwrap a tree?” Seungcheol asks in amusement. He pulls back to give Junhui a chance to answer.

“There are presents _under_ the tree,” Junhui whispers with a sly smile.

Oh.

\---

[O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQLdqnICsS8)

_Forever true your colour_

\---

Aside:

Junhui squawks loudly as Seungcheol wraps his arms around Junhui’s waist and picks him up. Seungcheol holds him just barely an inch off the floor and waddles quickly forward.

“Wh—what are you doing?” Junhui asks with a loud laugh.

“I’m going to unwrap my presents,” Seungcheol answers simply. He tries to sound sexy, but the words come out in short grunts as he continues towards their bedroom with purpose. “I’m a terribly bad boy who likes to open my gifts before Christmas.”

“Wait! We haven’t put sheets on the bed yet—!”

“I’m opening my presents _now!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's like 300 versions of this song LOL but used the lyrics I liked best XD I just linked a random version of this song. 
> 
> This almost got weirdly heated towards the end LOL But I hope whoever requested it~ you enjoyed~~ ^^ 
> 
> This was originally a much more sentimental and introspective piece w/ cheol comparing jun to a pine tree, always bright and evergreen no matter the situation throughout their relationship, but then I remembered that stupid tree costume from 17tv and I just...had to...
> 
> :D So I hope everyone enjoyed! And...this was over 1K again .-.


	4. Cheolgyu - Jingle Bell Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun / Now the jingle hop has begun )
> 
> “So go out there and jingle bell rock his world,” Myungho declares with a quick fist pump. 
> 
> “That’s weirdly sexual—ouch!”
> 
> “This is the last time I’m ever giving you a pep talk.”

[Jingle Bell Rock](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h81UOjlFmMs)

\---

_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock / Jingle bell swing and jingle bell ring_

\---

Let this be recorded and etched into the archives of history: Mingyu hates Myungho.

“You said that out-loud,” Minghao says lightly, snapping the strap of Mingyu’s top.

Just kidding, Myungho is his best friend, and he loves Myungho.

He loves that Myungho helped him into this tight, red faux-leather spaghetti strap top and even smoothed out the white fluffy lining. He loves that Myungho handed him a pair of shiny red booty shorts and stared expectantly.

He loves that Myungho _didn’t_ _stop him_ from making this stupid ass bet.

“Lie in the grave you dig,” Myungho says. He gives Mingyu an encouraging pat on the shoulders before leaving and closing the door behind him. “The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can pretend this never happened.”

Mingyu stands helplessly in Jeonghan’s tiny guest bathroom with the booty shorts in both hands and wonders how he got here.

A week ago, Jeonghan, one of their department seniors, opened his apartment up for the night. It was a typical kickback party, and nothing special should have happened.

Mingyu should have spent the night making heart eyes at his crush and lament on the way home about his love story that would never begin. And while the night began the way Mingyu expected—it really wasn’t fair that even in a fluffy white sweater Choi Seungcheol was still such a _handsome bastard_ —it ended a little differently.

Jeonghan shared his apartment with another senior, and said roommate Jisoo hardly ever stayed for Jeonghan’s little get-togethers. Previously, Mingyu just assumed that Jisoo wasn’t comfortable with so many drunk underclassmen in his space, but, oh _no_ , Jisoo was actually the life of the party.

“Have you guys ever played beer pong?” Jisoo suggested that night. No one noticed a maniacal glint in those usually gentle eyes, and everyone agreed to give it a go.

“Sounds fun,” Seungcheol said with a wide smile. “Count me in.”

Mingyu jumped on the opportunity to play with Seungcheol. He had never been the type for passive pining, and he has been actively trying to get to know the senior. While he liked to think they’re friends at this point, Mingyu has no idea how to get _closer_.

While Mingyu wanted to flirt and maybe even casually initiate physical contact, there was something about Seungcheol that made Mingyu stutter and fumble. It may be the way he laughed in short staccato notes, the way he glanced at Mingyu with twinkling eyes or the way his thick thighs bulged in his pants—basically, all of Choi Seungcheol made Mingyu clumsier than usual. His pick-up lines were so bad that they _had_ to be jokes, and his strategically planned caresses ended up as hard slaps on the back.

Taking all of this into consideration, beer pong had been a terrible idea.

After a quick game of rock-paper-scissors, Mingyu found himself partnered up with Jeonghan. He volunteered them quickly once Seungcheol and Jisoo offered to start off the first game. It hadn’t been the ideal situation—Mingyu would have rather them be partners—but with Seungcheol’s firey eyes on him, Mingyu accepted the near perfect alternative.

“Mingyu-yah, you need to pull your own weight!” Seungcheol yelled across the table. “It’s not fair if Jeonghan’s wining this whole thing!”

“Well, it’s not like hyung does much either!” Mingyu taunted. “Jisoo-hyung is doing most of the work!”

“Now, now kids,” Jeonghan said loudly, tossing his ping pong ball towards the remaining cups. It spun into one of the cups, and Mingyu cheered too early. Jisoo pulled it with two quick fingers. Jeonghan smiled slyly at his roommate. “ _Oh_ , we’ve started fingering so soon?”

“We’re almost done with this game, Hannie,” Jisoo answered with smile. “And I think I’m just a _little_ better than you.”

“Well, I’m better than Seungcheol-hyung!” Mingyu interrupted. He had enough beer to be a little warm and loose lipped.

“No, you’re not!”

“I totally am!”

He wasn’t sure how they got into this weird competitive argument, but Mingyu enjoyed every bit of it. Basking in the other’s attention, Mingyu got too confident, and that had been his fatal flaw.

“I bet that you’ll miss first!” Mingyu declared. Someone in front of the television laughed, and four girls on screen dancing to Jingle Bell Rock in short skirts distracted Mingyu for a moment. “And if I miss before you, I’ll do _that_ ”—Mingyu pointed towards the television—“at the Christmas party next week!”

“I can’t wait to see you in a slutty Santa costume!” Seungcheol laughed. Mingyu’s stomach did weird flip flops, does Seungcheol really want to see—? The older man pulled off his sweater in single tug, revealing the simple tank top underneath.  “You’re going down, Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu felt his mouth go dry. Woah, _that’s_ a good look. Mingyu swallowed as his eyes followed the elder’s collarbone down—

Since he’s currently the one in Jeonghan’s bathroom in red faux-leather short shorts, it’s obvious what the result had been. He had been sufficiently distracted and intoxicated, and Mingyu will not recount his defeat.

Although, drunken celebratory Seungcheol had been ridiculously cute, chugging the beer from a couple left over cups and spilling some down his chin.

“Yoh, Mingyu, do you have the booty shorts on yet?” Myungho calls from outside the bathroom door. “Jihoon-hyung has the audio all hooked up, and Soonyoung-hyung cleared out the living room as a stage.”

“I hate you all,” Mingyu groans.

He looks in the small sink mirror and inspects his costume. He’s still amazed Myungho managed to find this—the top looks exactly like the one from the movie, Mean Girls, was it? The only difference from the original costume is these _damn shorts_.

Mingyu tries to pull the shiny short down, but the hem settles just above where his butt meets his thighs. He tugs at the tight-fitting shorts, but, after he pulled up the front zipper, they became impossible to adjust.

Mingyu would have preferred the skirt. At least that would have covered more, but he spent too long agonizing over the bet and then learning the dance from an over enthusiastic Soonyoung. Having run out of time, he just accepted whatever Myungho scavenged for him.  

“I still have your hat and gloves,” Myungho says through the door.

“Coming,” Mingyu sighs. Time to face the music.

He cracks the door ajar before slowly easing it open. Mingyu looks around and sighs in relief when he spots only Myungho, leaning beside the door and scrolling through his phone.

“About time,” Myungho grumbles. He shoves his phone into his front pocket and gives Mingyu an up and down look. “You actually fill out the top perfectly.”

“Are you saying my pecs are big?” Mingyu asks, shielding his chest with his arms.

“I’m saying you have nice boobs,” Myungho answers with a slight smirk. He holds out the cheap Santa hat and a pair of black gloves. “Put these on and let’s get this over with.”

“Do I look really weird?” Mingyu asks, shifting awkwardly and tugging on the hem of the shorts again. “It’s weird, isn’t it? It’s not very attractive for someone like me to be wearing these kinds of things huh? Is Seungcheol-hyung here? Maybe I can just do this before he gets here—!”

“Woah, okay, stop talking,” Myungho shushes him. “First off, you look great. Great boobs and those shorts are great for your non-existent ass”—Mingyu makes a noise of dissent, _non-existent_ _ass_?—“Secondly, you made this bet _with_ Seungcheol-hyung. He’s going to want to be there. Lastly, you _want_ hyung to be there. You look _that_ good.”

Using his pointer finger, Myungho emphasizes each statement with a hardy push on the shoulder. He shoves the Santa hat on Mingyu’s his head and pulls it down until it squeezes around Mingyu’s head uncomfortably.

“So go out there and jingle bell rock his world,” Myungho declares with a quick fist pump.

“That’s weirdly sexual— _ouch!_ ”

“This is the last time I’m ever giving you a pep talk.”

\---

_Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun / Now the jingle hop has begun_

\---

Mingyu walks into the living room and almost turns around to go back into the bathroom.

At a glance, Mingyu sees Jihoon, Wonwoo and Seokmin on the couch while Soonyoung and Junhui chilled around the dining room table. It’s a tight fit, and they were still missing a handful of people. While it’s normal to see his friends squeezed into one small place, it’s strangely disconcerting to see everyone backed against the wall and sitting orderly.

Rather than the normal clutter of furniture, the couch is pushed against the dining table, and the coffee table is shoved to the side so a large space is cleared out—for him.

“Oh hey! Mingyu’s final here!” Soonyoung crows happily from the dining room table. “Is it weird that I actually think Mingyu looks pretty hot—”

“Yes,” Wonwoo answers immediately, not even bothering to look up from his game. “What you find attractive is oddly concerning sometimes.”

“I find _you_ attractive,” Soonyoung frowns.

“Oddly concerning when your boyfriend is right here,” Wonwoo says dryly.

“He does this on purpose,” Jihoon shrugs, ignoring his boyfriend’s sudden protests— _but Hoonie, you’re the cutest!_ Jihoon adjust the laptop on the armrest and taps his cheek in a thoughtful look. “Hm, did you hear something? I think I’m listening to a load of bullshit, but that might just be the heater.”

“Nope, I heard nothing,” Seokmin reports dutifully with a straight face. Wonwoo snorts, leaning onto the other’s shoulder. They share a nose-crinkling smile before Wonwoo returns to his game.

“Betrayed,” Soonyoung declares gravely. “Moon Junhui, are you also going to betray me as well?”

“Huh?”

“He wasn’t even paying attention!” Wonwoo laughs loudly.

Mingyu takes advantage of the ruckus to run to the kitchen and runs into Hansol.

“Oh, hyung,” Hansol greets, holding a bag of popcorn with his fingertips. There’s a little delay, but Hansol’s eyes and mouth go wide. “You’re actually doing it!”

“I am a man of my word,” Mingyu says dutifully and leans against the refrigerator with his best smolder even sending the younger boy an air kiss for good measure. Laughing, Hansol drops the popcorn bag, but he manages to grab it before the popcorn spill out of the opening. “That was a close one!”

“I didn’t burn it for once!” Hansol cheers. He pulls his earphones out of his jacket pocket. “I remembered to take them out so I heard the microwave beeping!”

“Good for you,” Mingyu says in slight exasperation. “By any chance, have you seen Seungcheol-hyung?”

“Oh, he got here a while ago when you were still in the bathroom,” Hansol answers, holding out the open popcorn bag as an offer. “Disappeared with Jeonghan-hyung and Jisoo-hyung into the bedroom and haven’t come out since.”

“Hm, okay,” Mingyu sighs. He grabs a small handful of popcorn and shoves it into his mouth.

“Don’t stress,” Hansol laughs. “Hyung said he wanted to see you in a naughty costume so it’ll be fine.”

Mingyu chokes. He thumps on his chest and coughs hoarsely. Yeah, he remembers, but why did Hansol need to say it like _that_?

“He did! Remember?” Hansol insists. “Last week, when you guys were playing beer pong? Uh, the ‘slutty Santa costume’, but honestly, I’m not fond of using the word slutty—”

Mingyu tries to answer or at least stop Hansol from talking, but an explosion of loud shrieking laughter does the job for him. They both turn towards the door leading to the dining room curiously.

“Oh, here you are! You look great by the way!” Jeonghan exclaims, hopping into the kitchen—in an elf onesie? The onesie was green up top with a little wreath collar and candy cane striped bottoms. To complete the look, Jeonghan is wearing a green triangle hat with a little bell jingling at the end. “We can’t start without our star!”

“Hyung, why are you dressed—?” Mingyu asks in confusion. He lets the elder pull him through the dining room and into the living room without much resistance.

“ _You lied to me!_ ”

Even though Seungcheol retreats quickly, Mingyu can easily see over Jeonghan’s head. He gets an eye-full of Seungcheol in a very similar red spaghetti strap top and _a short shiny skirt_.

“Now, now, Cheol, what did we say about running away?” Jisoo asks, tugging Seungcheol’s arm and leaning his entire body weight to stop the escapee. Jeonghan runs over to help his fellow onesie elf, grabbing onto Seungcheol’s other arm. “ _You_ were the one who wanted to do this in the first place! _Right?_ ”

_“You_ lied _to me! He’s wearing shorts!_ ”

And Seungcheol is wearing a skirt, Mingyu observes dumbly.

He tries not to stare, but Seungcheol’s shoulders look even broader in the spaghetti strap top. With Seungcheol straining against his two elves, the elder’s muscles are tense and tight—his thighs straining and bulging without the constraint of pants. The skirt is just short enough that, with every little burst of renewed struggle, it flares up and flashes peeks of the other’s briefs.

Mingyu tries not to let the disappointment that they’re not panties show on his face—

“You should close that mouth before you drool all over the living room,” Myungho comments, knocking shoulders with Mingyu. His friend gives him a sly smile before sitting down on the couch between Jihoon and Wonwoo.

“I’m not doing this anymore!” Seungcheol yells.  

“Mingyu!” Jeonghan grunts. “Seungcheol wanted to dress up and do your little dance together! Isn’t that sweet? Don’t you think he looks great?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mingyu croaks. He’s imagination is amazing, and his mind is still stuck on candy cane stripped panties. “He looks great.”

“Doesn’t he look sexy?” Jisoo asks loudly.

“Yeah—uh, I—” Mingyu stammers uncertainly. Oh, god, he thinks he and Seungcheol are friends, but what if this makes things awkward? What if—? Someone on the couch kicks at his calves. “Myungho, what the fu—?”

“What you say is _yes, you look fucking sexy hyung_ ,” Myungho hisses. Mingyu is about to turn around to protest, but Myungho kicks him square on the butt. “Just say it!”

“Yes, you look fucking sexy hyung!” Mingyu recites dutifully. It’s genuine even if a little instructed.

Seungcheol pauses, and his entire face flushes pink with it traveling all the way down his neck.

Whelp, it’s out there now. There’s no going back from here! He might as well go all out—! Just confess! Goodbye school life love! Goodbye Choi Seungcheol!

“I like you a lot hyung!” Mingyu blurts out before he loses steam. If things get out of hand, he’ll just blame the alcohol he didn’t ingest and—and the skirt! Seungcheol in a shiny red short skirt gives people weird ideas and yeah!

“Oh! He actually went for it!” Seokmin whispers loudly, slapping Wonwoo’s thigh repeatedly.

He’s not sure what kind of look is on his face, but Seungcheol is staring at him with startled wide eyes. Mingyu steels his nerves and gives his best smolder—squinting one eye, crinkling his nose on one side and smirking just enough so one canine peeks out.

If he’s going to go, at least he going to go with a bang! He’s already in right red booty shorts!

“And I would love to jingle bell rock your world,” Mingyu delivers cleanly. It’s his best pick up line yet, and he didn’t stutter at all.

“He totally stole that line from me,” Myungho sighs in the background. Wonwoo and Seokmin shake their heads disapprovingly.

Seungcheol opens his mouth, but the only sound that comes out is a strangled choking.

“That’s a _yes, me too_ ,” Jisoo translates.

“ _Yes, I would love for you to jingle bell fuck—_ ,” Jeonghan clarifies.

Jihoon groans and presses play on his laptop, blasting _Jingle Bell Rock_ to drown out Jeonghan’s voice. The volume is so loud that everyone—except Hansol who is still bopping to his own music—winces and covers their ears.

The apartment explodes in complaints, and Seungcheol uses the moment of chaos to grab Mingyu’s wrist, pulling the younger along.

They escape into the little guest bathroom, and Mingyu gasps as he’s backed into the closed door. The music outside lowers to an acceptable volume, but it merely made their out of sync breathing louder.

“Okay, that’s not what I meant to do,” Seungcheol laughs sheepishly, pulling away. “But uh, yeah, so I like you too.”

“So, uh, did you want to er—” Mingyu stammers. His burst of confidence trickles away quickly.

“Jingle bell rock my world?” Seungcheol teases, and Mingyu sputters. They’re still standing face to face in the little bathroom in a skirt and booty shorts, respectively. “Oh god, why is this so awkward?”

“Well, we can start at dating?” Mingyu suggests, scratching the back of his head.

“Our first date is in Jeonghan’s bathroom. How romantic,” Seungcheol says dryly. He looks around and picks up the bottle of hand soap off the counter. “For you.”

“What? This is totally romantic,” Mingyu gasps, clutching the lavender soap bottle against his mostly naked chest. “You’re in a skirt and I’m in short shorts. We’ve hit all the romantic winter clichés!”  

“No jingle bell fucking in my bathroom!” Jeonghan screeches through the door.

“Should we just stay in here to screw with Hannie?” Seungcheol whispers mischievously.

“ _Oh hyung!_ ” Mingyu groans loudly.

“ _Rock my world!_ ” Seungcheol moans. He leans against Mingyu’s chest, reaches around and pounds on the door a couple times.

“You better not be!” Jeonghan yells, smacking the door in return.

Both try to stifle their giggles, and their eyes meet.

“Mistletoe,” Mingyu says, pointing upward.

“You’re a bad liar,” Seungcheol laughs. “If you wanted a kiss, you could have just asked.”

Mingyu tries to protest, but his lips are quickly preoccupied with Seungcheol’s. He shrugs internally and settles his hands on the other’s hips. Oh well, it’s not that important.

A sprig of mistletoe hangs above them.

\---

_What a bright time, it’s the right time to rock the night away!_

\---

Aside:

“Come on, Cheollie,” Jeonghan wheedles. “You can’t rob the cradle. He’s got to come to you!”

“Mingyu is a sophomore,” Seungcheol argues weakly. “I can’t possibly be—okay, he’s also like a foot taller than me. How is that me robbing the cradle?”

“You know, when you have an authoritative, bossy upperclassman express interest,” Jisoo says. He puts a gentle hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder— _not saying,_ you _are bossy or anything_. “If he’s not interested, Mingyu might feel uncomfortable rejecting you.”

“Especially since you’re overseeing his group’s final project,” Jeonghan adds on.

“Okay you have a point, but why do I need to wear _this_ —?” Seungcheol whines, pointing at the offending costume on Jeonghan’s bed.

“Think about it this way,” Jisoo continues with his calm rationale. He exchanges a playful look with his roommate, but Seungcheol is too engrossed in the shiny red skirt to notice. “Mingyu’s making a fool of himself in front of all his friends, and how sweet would it be if his reliable senior joined him?”

“And your thighs look great in skirts,” Jeonghan interjects. “If your tendency to take off your shirt in front of him hasn’t worked so far—I’ve noticed Choi Seungcheol—he’ll definitely be attracted to your legs.”

“Such thick, very thigh,” Jisoo adds on helpfully.

“I also gave Myungho a matching outfit so you two can go for the ultimate Christmas couple look!” Jeonghan cheers.

“I’m not sure—”

“Jeonghan and I will join you. How about that?” Jisoo offers. Jeonghan frowns at Jisoo, but it quickly smooths over into his usual smile. “In the movie, there were four of them so we’ll join you.”

“For some reason—”

“See, it won’t be too bad!” Jeonghan urges. He pats the spaghetti strap top and the shiny skirt on his bed. “We got your back!”

“I feel like the two of you are tricking me into something I’m going to regret,” Seungcheol sighs. “But I’m the dumbass who’s friends with you guys.”

“Let me rephrase that for you,” Jeonghan says with a cheeky smile. “You’re the dumbass who’s had a massive crush on an underclassman but would be pining himself to death without us.”

“Wow, much truth,” Jisoo adds on helpfully.

\---

[That’s the jingle bell, that’s the jingle bell, that’s the jingle bell rock!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfLf7A_-1Vw)

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many regrets about this short 'cause   
> 1) HOLIDAY DRABBLES AND THIS IS NOT A DRABBLE   
> 2) This was supposed to be...more embarrassing? gyucheol were supposed to dance the mean girls edition with the thigh slapping and everything, but instead they just dressed up. (altho at the end of the night, they end up doing it 'cause why not? :D) It was supposed to be more comedic but it ended up...AH  
> 3) I SAID DRABBLES. 3K IS NOT A DRABBLE
> 
> To my dear requestor, I hope this was okay! ;;A;;)/ I'm so sorry it came so late and thank you for being patient with me! 
> 
> Gyuhao - let it snow coming up >___<


	5. Gyuhao - Let It Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( Oh, the weather outside is frightful / But the fire is so delightful )
> 
> “I thought you liked the cold,” Minghao teases with a playful smile.
> 
> “I don’t like the cold,” Mingyu protests. He pulls his darkened blanket up to his neck and reaches over, tugging Minghao into his arms. “Just who comes with it.”

[Let It Snow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mN7LW0Y00kE)

\---

_Oh, the weather outside is frightful / But the fire is so delightful_

_And since we’ve no place to go / Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow_

\---

Winters in Seoul are cold, and tonight is no exception. The first snowfalls had melted weeks ago, and the rain that followed made the possibility of a white Christmas seem very low.

Mingyu has seen many winters come and go, but he still wishes for the snow to stay. There’s something magical about fresh untrodden snow and quiet city streets.

In the bright winter mornings, Mingyu daydreams about stepping into the snow and listening to the ice crunch beneath his feet. In dark winter nights, he dreams of the winter winds embracing him and kissing his cheeks. He smiles glumly—it’s a weird thing to think about the impossible and yet, he’s never stopped.

Staring out into the night, Mingyu curls up against the window with a thick dark orange blanket. The apartment is warm and cozy, but Mingyu wants to go out into the cold. He wouldn’t last in the freezing winter nights, but still—and there’s another person who wants just the opposite.

“How did you even get in here?” Mingyu asks. He wrinkles his nose in distaste as a draft of cold air chills the air. The cold is always more unpleasant than he imagines.

“The window in the bedroom is open,” Minghao shrugs, walking towards the window. He nudges Mingyu’s legs off the window sill and sits down, squeezing himself opposite of Mingyu.

“It wasn’t open,” Mingyu frowns.

“It wasn’t closed properly,” Minghao answers. He shrugs off his dark coat and tosses it on the floor. “It’s warm in here.”

“And you’re cold,” Mingyu complains, pulling his red blanket closer. “You should have waited for the fires to burn brighter before—”

“They have to come home to tend to the fire,” Minghao interrupts. He reaches out and skims his fingers against the blanket. Mingyu’s eyes spark and flickers at the ash left behind from the icy touch. “It’s too warm when they’re here.”

“You’re going to put me out,” Mingyu huffs, twisting his darkening blanket away from Minghao’s curious hands. He shakes some embers out of his hair, and they fall like burning stars—Minghao hisses, jerking his hand away. “It’ll take forever for me to warm up again.”

“I thought you liked the cold,” Minghao teases with a playful smile.

Minghao turns toward him, and the lights beyond the window illuminate his eyes. Mingyu stares in awe. Minghao’s eyes didn’t flicker or burn like his own, no—his eyes sparkle like the light reflected off crystals of ice. And Mingyu doesn’t mind the frostbite if he gets to fall into those eyes.

“I don’t like the cold,” Mingyu protests. He pulls his darkened blanket up to his neck and reaches over, tugging Minghao into his arms. “Just who comes with it.”

“Isn’t it sad?” Minghao asks bitterly. He slowly wraps his arm around Mingyu, careful to keep the blanket between them. “You love the winter who puts out your flames, and I love the warmth of a home I can never call my own.”

“I think it’s kind of nice,” Mingyu answer, snuggling into Minghao’s chest. Even though the blanket, the cold feels so _alive_. “That I love you and you love me.”

\---

_When we finally kiss good-night / How I’ll hate going out in the storm_

_But if you really hold me tight / All the way home I’ll be warm_

\---

Mingyu is a bringer of warmth to families—he carries hope, sends dreams and embodies fire. He’s the letter from a grandchild to their grandparents far, far away; he’s the flame for a little girl selling matches in the cold; and he’s the crackling fireplace to share scary ghost stories and tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago.

Minghao is the wandering winter—he sprinkles snow, kicks storms and embodies ice. He’s the shrill winds knocking off the last of persistent leaves; he’s the ice frozen across the road in the morning, tripping and slipping those who tread thoughtlessly; and he’s the snowball soaring through the air aimed at an unsuspecting target.

They are two sides of a coin—Minghao belonging to cold outside and Mingyu to the warm inside.

They should never have met. They should have slipped by each other with only glimpses of movement on the other side of the window.

It had been a strangely cold night, and Mingyu had been so sleepless, burning bright even when the family smothered him in ashes. He pulled his bright yellow blanket to the window and watched in wonder as specks of snow floated down.

(Minghao had been whirling snowflakes through the air when a light at a window caught his eye. He’s seen it before, disappearing into homes before he could get a good look, but that night, it stayed.

Curious, Minghao approached the glow, and he has never seen Warmth watch his falling snowflakes with such open mouth wonder. Through the glass, Minghao could read the other’s lips— _how pretty_.

It was the first time he wondered would embers burn, and would it hurt like the strange ache in his chest?)

Minghao appeared in front of him in a flurry of snowflakes. It had been the first time they met—the first time Mingyu felt the chill of winter cripple his flames—and it had been the last time they spoke through a thick glass with Mingyu’s breath fogging the window.

They cannot touch—no, they _should_ not touch.

A careless caress can freeze Mingyu through to the heartwood, and a lingering cuddle can melt Minghao into a puddle. But they still try—using the blanket of soot and ash to mellow their opposing elements.

Mingyu knows his fire is going cold, and he sees the little trickle of water running down Minghao’s face. They are going to be at their limit soon, but—Mingyu looks up into those frosty eyes and asks:

“Can I kiss you?”

“I can’t stay for too long if we do,” Minghao answers truthfully. Even so, he still leans forward and some tiny flakes of ice flutter onto Mingyu’s cheek. The Warmth flinches. “You won’t last.”

“Why don’t you let me decide that?” Mingyu huffs, scrunching his nose in mock offense.

“You’re often not a very good judge—” Minghao begins, but Mingyu quiets him with a kiss. Their lips touch and the first kiss always hurts. The searing heat and burning cold clash, exploding into sparks and water vapor.

The window fogs, hiding them from the prying eyes of the moon. It’s a moment for them—two sides of a coin, meeting in the middle.

\---

_And the fire is slowly dying / And, my dear, we’re still good-bye-ing_

\---

Aside:

“It’s freezing in here!” Soonyoung groans, shuffling across the cold floor boards.

“Just turn on the heater!” Wonwoo calls, struggling to take off his shoes while balancing the grocery bags in his arms. He pushes the door closed behind him with a grunt.

“With your low salary?” Soonyoung scoffs. He scurries into the bedroom to look for their portable heater. “Yah! Wonwoo! You left the window open?!”

“I did not,” Wonwoo yells back. He kicks off his stubborn shoe and paddles into the kitchen. Dumping the grocery bags onto the counter, Wonwoo breathes out in relief. He’s not sure what they bought but—

“Wonwoo! Wonwoo! Come over here!”

“What?” Wonwoo asks in annoyance. He pulls out the eggs and potatoes. Why were they in the same bag? He blames Soonyoung.

“Just get over here!” Soonyoung calls with barely contained excitement.

“I’m putting the eggs away!” Wonwoo explains.

“Well, put them away and _get over here!_ ”

“This is the kind of love I get in this house,” Wonwoo mutters to himself, but something warm tickles his chest. He shoves the egg carton into an open space in the fridge and makes his way to the bedroom. He will never admit he skipped a couple steps there. “Coming!”

“Look!” Soonyoung says, pointing outside. He turns to Wonwoo with a wide smile and bright eyes. “Snow!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Wonwoo notices the little flakes of snow, but he’s staring at Soonyoung—the moonlight reflecting in his eyes, the red flush of his cheeks and the little puffs of breath from his lips. The warmth in his chest bursts and Wonwoo walks up behind Soonyoung quietly.

“Isn’t it beautiful—?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo agrees. He wraps his arms around Soonyoung’s waist and nuzzles the back of the other’s neck. “Super beautiful.”

The winter dances outside, and the warmth of a home watches.

\---

[But as long as you love me so / Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mN7LW0Y00kE)

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I'm back! I probably won't be able to catch up by Christmas (but i will try LOL) but I promise that I will finish it before the end of the year. 
> 
> I hope everyone is having a happy holidays <3 Eat well, rest well, hydrate well and be well.


	6. Gyuhao - I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( I saw Mommy kissing Santa Clause / Underneath the mistletoe last night ) 
> 
> “Uh, sure,” Bambam says with a raised eyebrow. The seven-year-old stares at his friend with a skeptical look, and Seokmin sputters. “Are you sure it was Santa Claus?”
> 
> “Yes!” Seokmin argues with an ugly pout. “He had a beard and was in a Santa hat and everything.”

[I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PITCmngiMfA)

\--

_I saw Mommy kissing Santa Clause / Underneath the mistletoe last night_

\---

“He’s not even awake,” Minghao sighs, snuggling into the couch cushions. “What are you doing?”

“What if he decides to sneak downstairs?” Mingyu says in a loud whisper. “How sad were you when you found out your parents were Santa Claus?”

“I felt very grateful, and I hugged my parents,” Minghao answers in a deadpan voice. A yawn breaks the grumpy look on his face, and Minghao shakes his head a couple times to wake himself. Wrapping his arms around himself, Minghao thinks longingly of their warm toasty bed upstairs. “Do—Do you really need to do this _now_?”

“I’m almost done!” Mingyu whispers. “Gosh, not even helping out and just nagging me this entire time—”

Ignoring the other’s tirade, Minghao squints at Mingyu wearing a Santa suit with a crooked fake beard and too small Santa hat. His husband is bustling around the living room, arrange the presents underneath the tree and plates of cookies on the coffee table. Mingyu takes a bite out of a couple cookies and spreads little crumbs on a small empty place. Minghao grimaces when Mingyu sprinkles some on the coffee table, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stretches his legs off the couch lazily, but Mingyu smacks them with a roll of ribbon.

“Stay hidden or go back upstairs!” Mingyu whisper shouts. Pulling his legs back with a pout, Minghao wonders why his husband is even trying to be quiet. “You’re not helping!”

“I wasn’t aware that I was Santa’s little helper,” Minghao grumbles. He looks around the living room. Everything looks done, and Mingyu is just being particular, adjusting the cookie platters and fluffing up ribbons. Before Minghao could even ask, Mingyu runs into the kitchen with a loud gasp— _oh shoot, forgot to turn off the oven!_ “Wait, Mingyu, what do you want me to—you know what, never mind.”

Mingyu does a good job at leaving ‘evidence’ of Santa Claus dropping by—Minghao yawns again—but he’d really rather Mingyu be in bed with him right now. He glances at the clock hanging above their fake fireplace. It’s three in the morning. It’s _too early_ for his husband to be this enthusiastic.

The living room is a little chilly in the early morning, and Mingyu had woken him maybe an hour ago in his Santa Claus costume. His husband was lucky Minghao didn’t deck him in the face right there and then. For the past hour, Minghao had sat on the couch zoning out with Mingyu bustling around him.  

Don’t misunderstand, Minghao appreciates all Mingyu does to give their son Seokmin a good childhood. Mingyu is the type of parent who always exchanges a lost tooth underneath the pillow for pocket change and insists dressing up for Halloween as a family. He celebrates Chuseok with family ceremonies and new clothes and the Spring Festival with round lanterns and red envelopes—“He needs to appreciate the culture of both his parents,” Mingyu declared. This also means Minghao gets dragged along for the ride every time, and he’s not always against it.

It’s just that they usually plan things _together_.

Minghao frowns. He sounds so whiny, but it was a part of the reason he didn’t jump out of bed to help. Sure, he’s been busy in the art studio and he had an advertisement deadline that cut very close to Christmas. Sure, he understands Mingyu didn’t want to further stress him out with holiday celebrations. Sure, he gets it and he appreciates it but—!

They usually plan for the holidays _together_.

This isn’t the first time he’s had a deadline conflict with a holiday, and he knows how to manage his time. Minghao isn’t _a child_ , and he doesn’t need Mingyu _babying him_. Minghao is a responsible adult who really doesn’t need this kind of patronizing—

Minghao breathes in, holding his breath for a few seconds, and then lets it out. His anger deflates with it. And to be honest, Minghao isn’t mad at Mingyu. He’s more disappointed with himself.

When they adopted Seokmin, Minghao promised to play an equal part in their son’s life, and he’d always feel sorry when he needed to spend the night at the studio and Mingyu tucked their child in. Understanding this, Mingyu has always made a point for them to coordinate holiday outfits together or do family activities on one of Minghao’s free weekends.

Maybe that’s why he felt a tiny prickle of annoyance. They had always done this as a team and as equal partners. Here he is, not pulling his own weight, and Mingyu hasn’t say anything.

“I can’t believe I left the oven on,” Mingyu groans, shuffling into the living room. His cotton beard is a little skewed to the left. “Almost set the house on fire.”

“Would that have been a surprise?” Minghao scowls with his jaw set and brows furrowed. The words are harsher and meaner than their usual bantering. Mingyu pauses, and Minghao closes his eyes. Damn. “That’s not what I meant.”

“So what _did_ you mean?” Mingyu asks and waits. In their youth, his husband had never been this patient, and Minghao frowns. Dammit, Mingyu now seems like the bigger person.

Minghao struggles to find the right words so he doesn’t sound too ungrateful or too disinterested. Looking down at his bare toes, he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything. The silence drags and drags and—

“Christmas tree, 45 dollars,” Mingyu says. Minghao hears the other move but he doesn’t look up, not even when Mingyu’s red fluffy sock-clad foot pokes his own. Mingyu bends over to take his hand and pulls Minghao up.  “Milk for Santa’s cookies, 5 dollars.”

“Wrong currency,” Minghao mumbles. He tries to sit back down on the couch, but Mingyu’s relentless. His husband maneuvers them to the middle of the living room, and Minghao can _hear_ the other’s pout so he meets Mingyu’s eye.

“Mistletoe to hang, 6 dollars,” Mingyu continues. His lips go from a pout to a victorious smile almost instantly. He points up to the ceiling, and Minghao looks up obediently. A little green branch with small white berries hangs above them. “Having my busy and ambitious husband home for Christmas, priceless.”

“You ripped that from a television commercial,” Minghao accuses, but he can’t suppress the smile on his lips. Is it weird he still finds Mingyu ridiculously attractive even with that cotton beard and unshapely Santa suit? “And that last line had no impact—”

“Stop ruining the mood and kiss me,” Mingyu whispers, leaning their foreheads together.

And Minghao does just that.

(Aside: “You do know that everything came out of _your_  credit card, right?” Mingyu asks. Much later in the morning, they are watching Seokmin tear through his little pile of presents under the tree. “I do the work, you pay the bills.”

“Wait, what?”

“After all, we need to split the holidays fairly, no?” Mingyu singsongs with a little smirk. Minghao opens his mouth to argue, but Mingyu beats him to the punch. “Seokminnie, be sure to thank your baba! He made sure to send out your letter to Santa on time.”

And Minghao can’t even find it in himself to be mad—not when Seokmin leaps into his arms with a loud shriek of happiness.)

\---

_She thought that I was tucked up / In my bedroom fast asleep_

\---

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

But one was awake with ambitions unsaid;

“I will see Santa then disappear with a clap,

No one will know I woke up from my nap.”

 

Behind the tree in dozing when suddenly a clatter,

Seokmin jerked awake quickly to see what was the matter.

Peering through the pine and new present stashes,

He saw a strange sight and he bat his eyelashes.

 

In front of the tree, there are two figures he knows,

The backside of his baba standing on his tippy toes.

The second figure almost caused him to cheer,

It was jolly St. Nicholas in his full holiday gear.

 

Seokmin sees the mistletoe hanging on the ceiling,

But the sight of this scene still leaves him reeling.

Baba was kissing Santa Claus and a-giggling,

With every sway, the bell on Santa’s hat was a-jiggling.

 

In their mirth, they didn’t hear him creep,

Back up the stairs without a single peep.

Wide awake, Seokmin wonders if he would be bad,

If he decided that what he saw tonight, he wouldn’t tell dad. 

\---

[ _Oh, what a laugh it would have been / if Daddy had only seen_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PITCmngiMfA)

[ _Mommy kissing Santa Clause last night!_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PITCmngiMfA)

\---

Aside:

“Uh, sure,” Bambam says with a raised eyebrow. The seven-year-old stares at his friend with a skeptical look, and Seokmin sputters. “Are you sure it was _Santa Claus_?”

“Yes!” Seokmin argues with an ugly pout. “He had a beard and was in a Santa hat and _everything_.”

“If you’re sure,” Jungkook trails off. He likes Seokmin and doesn’t want to burst his bubble. Although, it seems like Bambam is on the edge of exploding.

“Alright kids, Santa Claus doesn’t—” Bambam begins with an irritated sigh.

“Your papa kissed _Santa Claus_?” Yugyeom asks, interrupting the other.

“ _Yes_!” Seokmin answers. He knows what he saw! Seokmin sighs sadly. His friends don’t believe him! Even though Yugyeom and Jungkook aren’t outwardly disagreeing with him, he sees their looks of uncertainty.

No one believes him!

“At least your appa didn’t see.”

Seokmin freezes—oh no, he recognizes that voice—and turns around slowly.

“Your appa would have been very sad if he saw your papa kissing Santa Claus,” Jung Yoonoh says. “So I guess it’s a good thing only you saw.”

“Y—you’re right!” Seokmin agrees, nodding furiously. “Appa would have been super sad!”

The other boy smiles, and Seokmin feels his face get very hot. Oh no, it’s his crush _Yoonoh_. The cool and handsome and _sparkling_ Jung Yoonoh is talking to him!

For the rest of the day, nothing could bring Seokmin down—not Bambam’s insistence that Santa Claus isn’t real or everyone’s teasing nudges whenever Yoonoh walked by.

He’s glad he crawled out of bed that Christmas Eve because if he hadn’t seen _baba_ kissing Santa Claus, he would never have spoken with Jung Yoonoh.

(“And that’s probably when I fell in love with you,” seventeen-year-old Seokmin admits. They’re cuddling on the living room couch with Yoonoh leaning on his shoulder. It’s a cold winter afternoon, and Seokmin’s parents are off on a little outing of their own.

“And you waited ten years to tell me,” Yoonoh says slowly, peering up at Seokmin with an incredulous look.

“What was I supposed to say?” Seokmin asks in embarrassment. He shoves his boyfriend off his shoulder. “ _Hey, I think I’m in love with you because you supported my story of my dad cheating on my other dad with an imaginary holiday figure_?”

“That would have been very memorable,” Yoonoh laughs, falling backwards onto the couch. He looks fondly at Seokmin and holds out his arms. “Come over here?”

Seokmin doesn’t think twice before launching himself into his boyfriend’s awaiting embrace.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL 'cause seokmin's lil crush on jaehyun (NCT) is adorbs and this honestly was an excuse to write baby 97line. LOL i dunno i feel like bambam would be one of those kids who'd want their friends to know the truth and doesn't mean it in a malicious way but more like "IT CAN'T BE SANTA SO WHO WAS UR DAD KISSING D:<"
> 
> Anyways, this kind of...stewed in my mind for a long time 'cause originally, I started going into parental roles and how parents try to find a way of being a part of their child's lives and the potential problems of a super busy working parent and one who's able to be there more and the potential guilt associated with it and well, I went too far LOL I ended up backtracking as far as i could w/o destroying the entire story structure and just going for mouth rotting fluff. (reference: mastercard commercials LOL) 
> 
> If the story were to continue w/ gyuhao, they'd sit down and talk about it. Gyu would probably tell hao that 'dude, it's chill, we all have times were work is busy and that's why he has two dads' and Hao would tell him to always be honest 'i want to know if you don't think i'm doing my part, i want to be apart of seokmin's life' and gyu just laughing 'you think I know what i'm doing during the dragon boat festival?? obviously ur the chinese one between the two of us'.
> 
> Aaaand the poem, i did my best guys LOL i've pretty much read it so many times that it just sounds wrong so lmk if you think there are better ways i could have formatted it OR if you got any poetry tips, lmk. I'm terrible at poetry. 
> 
> So yeah, messy messy chapter, BUT thanks for reading and I will finish up these holiday fics >:) I WILL.


	7. Junshua - Angels We Have Heard On High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( Angels we have heard on high / Sweetly singing o’er the plains ) 
> 
> “You’re going to be assigned a guardian angel,” Jeonghan says. “Bad alignment of the stars, yadda yadda yadda, next year is filled with bad fortune, blah blah blah.”
> 
> “Oh, okay,” Junhui says slowly. He has been able to see guardian angels all his life, but he’s never had one of his own. This will be different. “Do I know them?”
> 
> “I don’t think so. He’s a transfer so even I don’t know him,” Jeonghan shrugs.

[ **Angels We Have Heard on High** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAMzAIH12yc)

\---

_Angels we have heard on high / Sweetly singing o’er the plains_

\---

Class ended later than usual, and after three hours of listening to Professor Hwang drone on about homeopathic cough remedies, Junhui is ready to go home and pass out.

It’s already dark outside, and finals are looming in the distance. He’s stressed, but it’s nothing a hearty meal and a good night’s sleep can’t fix!

Briefly looking down at his cell phone display, Junhui gasps. He shoves his phone into his shoulder bag and starts speeding down the stairs. Just kidding, he has a review session in ten minutes, and they’re being given extra credit on the final for attending.

He hasn’t eaten since lunch which had been seven hours ago, but Junhui doesn’t have time! He needs to get to the C building which is across campus and—

In his haste, Junhui misses the last step on the stairs. Oh _fuck_.

Usually, he’d catch himself no problem, but his body is sluggish from low blood sugar. Junhui watches the floor move closer in slow motion. The adrenaline starts pumping through his body but it’s too late. He’s fallen too far! Whelp, this is great. Maybe the TA’s will excuse his lateness if he comes in with a broken nose!

“There has to be a limit to that positive energy.”

Junhui gasps loudly as someone catches him around the waist, but his knees never hit the ground. He’s suspended parallel to the floor with the tips of his toes on the end of the missed step. The floor is centimeters from his nose. He turns to toward the voice, and he’s greeted with another’s face at eye level—or more like floor level as they’re both pretty much floating parallel to the ground.

Jeonghan has a worried frown on his face, but his long bangs cover half of it, falling across his face and skimming the floors.

“Hi, Jeonghan-aju—Nice! Nice catch, Jeonghan-hyung!” Junhui squeaks as the other’s eyes flash in warning.

“Nice save, Moon Junhui,” Jeonghan laughs. They slowly move upright, like an invisible hook is pulling Junhui from his shoulders. “Look at how well this _hyung_ takes care of you. I’m not even your guardian angel.”

“I’m usually not this clumsy,” Junhui laughs sheepishly, feeling his feet hit the floor at last.

“I know,” Jeonghan shrugs. The motion flutters his wings and a couple feather shake loose. The angel looks down at the fallen feathers with a frown. “I’m getting old.”

“You don’t look old at all,” Junhui says sincerely, and Jeonghan doesn’t. The angel looks like a twenty-something year-old young man with the most luxurious hair the world has ever seen!

“I’m hitting that fifth century,” Jeonghan sighs. “Oh this, mid-millennium crisis.”

“You don’t look a day over a hundred,” Junhui insist, and this gets a tiny smile from the angel.

“Sweet talker,” Jeonghan protests. “Well, I’m off to make sure my charge isn’t going to slip on ice. Why are all my kids so proficient with full body gags?”

“Still have it better than Seungcheol-er, Seungcheol-hyung,” Junhui says. He’s seen the other angel chasing after his two kids— _no, Hansol take out your earphones and watch the road, and Mingyu please don’t drop that on your toes! What did I just—_ and Seungcheol always looks like he’s about to pull out his hair.

“You can call Seungcheol an old man,” Jeonghan interjects with a flip of his hair. “He is one.”

“At least, Seokmin tries,” Junhui continues.

“It’s not physical accidents I’m worried about,” Jeonghan frowns. The staircase gets a little frosty, and Junhui pulls his jacket closer to himself. “I swear if this Myungho kid break Minnie’s heart—ah, anyways, I was actually looking for you.”

“Yes hyung?” Junhui asks respectfully.

“You’re going to be assigned a guardian angel,” Jeonghan says. “Bad alignment of the stars, yadda yadda yadda, next year is filled with bad fortune, blah blah blah.”

“Oh, okay,” Junhui says slowly. He has been able to see guardian angels all his life, but he’s never had one of his own. This will be different. “Do I know them?”

“I don’t think so. He’s a transfer so even I don’t know him,” Jeonghan shrugs. “I think Seungcheol does though. You can ask him next time Mingyu is holding something valuable.”

Junhui opens his mouth to defend his underclassman, but he can’t find a fault in Jeonghan’s logic. That’s probably when he’ll see Seungcheol next.

“Run along,” Jeonghan shoos. “You still have a study session to go to. Luckily, your TA will forget some papers at home and he’ll be late as well.”

“Hyung, you don’t have to help me—”

“And after tonight, I won’t,” Jeonghan promises. Instead of disappearing mysteriously or even flying off with a flurry of feathers, Jeonghan waves and treks up the stairs. His wings shrinking away and a student’s book bag replacing it. “Take care and I’ll see you around.”

A couple of girls coming down the stairs are startled—as if Jeonghan suddenly appeared out of nowhere—and they whisper frantically to each other as the now visible angel smiles at them.

Junhui shakes his head fondly. Oh shoot, his review session!

\---

_And the maintains in reply / Echoing their joyous strains_

\---

Building C is on the opposite end of the campus with one courtyard and what is usually a large grassy lawn in between him and his destination.  

Speed walking with purpose, Junhui makes good time across the concrete courtyard. Fumbling slightly, he pulls out his phone to check the time again. He’s already late and there’s only ten feet of mud in front of him. Junhui considers running around, but it would take an extra four minutes to swing around to the administrative building and then back.

Junhui mutters a quick apology to his gray running shoes—he’ll probably ruin them—and makes a dash towards the muddy lawn. The first step isn’t too bad. His foot sinks down into the mud with a _crunch_ and his sock is immediately wet. But this is the price of those extra points on the final!

Junhui inhales. He’s going to make it. Junhui exhales and takes the second step. He sinks into the mud once again, but instead of planting down into the muck, his foot slides forward. Junhui yelps as his front foot slips forward, taking the rest of his body with him.

And he’s falling once again.

This time he’s staring up at the dark night sky, wondering which star up there is unaligned. Well, at least, his nose is safe.

“Be careful!”

Junhui hears the other first, and then he feels the sudden tug on his arm, pulling him backward. He collides with a solid chest, and they stumble back together. The other doesn’t have a good grip on him, and with his muddy shoes, Junhui slides out onto the concrete.

“Are you alright?”

Even though he smacks his head on the other’s knees on the way down, Junhui is relatively unharmed otherwise. Sure, he’s sitting on his butt on the cold pavement, but if he had fallen uninterrupted, he would definitely have had a concussion. Forcing a pained smile, Junhui groans in what he hopes sounds reassuring and looks up at his savior.

“Are you sure?” his savior asks, looking down with his brows furrowed in concern.

Junhui stares up at the other’s face in awe—fluffy brown hair, twinkling almond eyes and lips with a slight upward curl at the end. There’s a very delicate, almost angelic look about this man. The other man is in a puffy white winter coat—Junhui gasps—and behind him, a pair of white feathered wings shifted quietly.  

“Are you my angel?” Junhui asks through the dull throbbing of his head.

“Oh, uh— _oh_ ,” the other stutters and then breaks out in sweet laughter. “I—haha, I’ve been called an angel before?”

“What’s your name?” Junhui asks.

“Joshua,” his angel answers. His angel’s cheeks are dusted pink, and Junhui wonders if angels can get cold too.

“I’m Junhui.”

“I know,” Joshua answers with a cryptic smile. Junhui wants to slap himself. Of course, his guardian angel knows that! “And shouldn’t you be going to the review session?”

“Oh, _oh yeah!_ ” Junhui yelps, jumping up to his feet.

“Go around this time and try not to fall again,” Joshua laughs, adjusting his book bag. Junhui notices the wings are gone. “See you around?”

“Yeah!” Junhui agrees. He lingers a little just to see his guardian angel for a moment longer. But with the other’s friendly wave, Junhui turns and treks around the muddy lawn to the C building.

Woah, all guardian angels must be gorgeous, Junhui thinks dreamily. His surely is.

\---

_Angels we have heard on high / Sweetly, sweetly through the night_

\---

Joshua Hong transferred to a college in Seoul to get away from the States.

Back home, Joshua was trapped in a familiar cycle of class, work and church. It felt like an odd continuation of high school, taking classes he didn’t care for and studying for a major he cared even less for. He even went to class with a lot of the same friends _from_ high school!

His life was stagnant, and he knew he needed a change. An airborne flyer and an inspirational TED talk— _Why you will fail to have a great career_ —landed Joshua in Seoul ready for a change of pace and a new setting to chase his dreams.

Unable to transfer certain credits over, Joshua found himself sitting in introductory classes such as general biology and statistics. While the material was easy, he realized that his Korean was not up to par, and there were so many technical terms he had to learn. He sat in class after class with question marks and English scribbles. And after each lecture, Joshua wondered whether he’s made a mistake.

Maybe there were dreams he shouldn’t chase, maybe he should just go home—

“I feel like I’m taking two classes at once: statistics and a Korean language class!”

_Relatable_.

Joshua looked up from his blank notebook to his two classmates sitting in front of him. The one who spoke was a handsome looking fellow with a straight nose and sturdy jawline. There was something classically handsome about him like he walked off the set of a period drama.

“Jun-hyung, it’s okay,” his other classmate, Chwe Hansol, shrugged. “You moved here from China like two years ago. I grew up in Korea, and I’ve never heard of some of these words!”

Joshua had been introduced to the younger student when he first transferred—“My English isn’t good as my Korean, but I can speak so if you need anything hyung, just let me know”—and he almost forgot that they were in the same class.

“Aw, you’re so sweet, Hansolie!” the handsome man cooed, throwing his arms around the other’s shoulders. Joshua watched the affectionate scene unfold before him, and he wondered how it would feel to have those sparkling eyes on him.

“Jun-hyung!” Hansol complained, getting up from his seat and pulling away. In their flailing, Junhui accidentally bumped into Joshua’s table.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Junhui exclaimed, turning towards him. It was only a brief moment, but Joshua wasn’t ready for the eye contact.

“It’s okay,” Joshua croaked, but Junhui was already chasing after Hansol who took the chance to escape. “It’s okay.”

Since then, Joshua has been trying to approach younger—he learned that Wen Junhui was a sophomore from Shenzhen, China—but there’s something intimidating about the younger man. Maybe it was the protective group of friends he had or maybe it was the piercing look that melted into the sweetest of smiles, but either way, Joshua kept his distance.

Tonight, Joshua originally planned to walk through building A instead of around the muddy lawn in the cold, but a little nagging thought tugged him outside. He’s tired, maybe a little cold air will wake him up!

Trudging in the winter winds, Joshua notices a running figure dashing across the courtyard and towards the muck. He recognizes Junhui from his odd running posture—with his neck craning forward as though his nose needs to reach the finish line first.

_Ah, the review session I’m not going to_ , Joshua sighs internally. He would, but he’s covering someone tonight at his part-time job and—he watches Junhui slip on the mud.

“Be careful!” Joshua calls. He starts running towards the falling man, but he knows he’s a little too far. Joshua gasps as someone pushes him forward, and he barely catches Junhui.

The younger man still slides down, landing flat on his butt and knocking his head against Joshua’s knees, but at least, it isn’t his unprotected head against the pavement. Joshua takes a moment to stifle his own groan of pain before asking:

“Are you alright?”

Junhui looks up with a pained smile and makes a weak affirmative noise.

“Are you sure?” Joshua asks, unconvinced. He looks down at the fallen man in concern.

And Junhui just stares at him with bright eyes and mouth slightly ajar. Joshua flushes slightly. He’s not used to having someone look at him in awe and definitely not someone like Junhui.

“Are you my angel?”

“Oh, uh— _oh_ ,” Joshua stutters unsure of how to respond. Teasing friends were the only ones who called him an angel, but Junhui sounds so serious. He’s not too sure whether it’s appropriate to turn the question back on Junhui— _are you sure you’re not an angel, a_ fallen _angel_ —so he just laughs. “I—haha, I’ve been called an angel before?”

Joshua’s pretty sure the actual angel is sitting at his feet, but if he were the angel, Joshua would have gladly fallen for Junhui.

\---

_And the mountains in reply / Echoing their brief delight_

\---

Aside:

“So, are you going to tell him?” Seungcheol asks, nudging his friend. He hasn’t seen the other angel for at least two centuries, and while his friend looks exactly the same, Seungcheol thinks there’s something softer about the other’s demeanor.

“No,” Lee Jihoon answers, watching the busy college courtyard with disinterest.

Both angels are sitting on the rooftop of building C, leaning over the railing to observe post-exam breakdowns. Seungcheol isn’t worried. Mingyu is a bright kid who stresses but always pull through, and Hansol doesn’t seem to stress about academics ever—which in a sense is kind of worrisome, but alas.        

“Junhui can see angels,” Seungcheol informs.

“I know,” Jihoon snorts. He looks at Seungcheol with a deadpan look. “He’s my charge now. Of course, I know.”

“On top of it as usual,” Seungcheol says dryly.

Jihoon is about to retorts when he sees a familiar figure shuffles across the cold courtyard with a little skip in his step. The angel smiles. He’s watched over Jisoo for almost a decade now, and it had been disheartening to watch life chip away at the bright boy.

Jihoon had done something he’s never done before—and he even did it multiple times. He interfered.

Rather than just watching Jisoo in his misery, Jihoon pulled off a flyer about transferring schools and flew it strategically to the other’s feet. And while he’d like to say he planted the TED talk video as well, it had just been a random recommendation on YouTube.

While Jisoo struggled in the beginning, Jihoon saw the light returning to the other’s eyes. Chasing dreams was never supposed to be easy, and the first step was always being given the chance. Jihoon watched Jisoo slowly develop affection for his classmate, and he didn’t mean to interfere.

But that night, he had just been assigned to Wen Junhui.

The angel knew Junhui was going to fall—and in any other circumstance, Jihoon would have pushed his new charge and let Junhui fall forward into the soft mud—but he also knew Jisoo would be there. Jihoon interfered. He tugged Jisoo out into the cold and pulled him along the long way around the muddy lawn.

At the sight of Junhui slipping, Jisoo moved quickly, but he would have been two steps too slow. Jihoon interfered and swore he would do no more. The angel pushed Jisoo forward and pulled Junhui back just enough so they would collide.

And while it hadn’t been intentional, he supposes it was also considered interfering. Behind his human, Jihoon had his wings spread wide, and he was almost insulted—he’s not _that short_ —when he heard:

“Are you my angel?”

Watching Jisoo cross the courtyard and wave hesitantly at Junhui, Jihoon swears not interfere anymore. He’s done more than enough.

“What are you smiling creepily over there for?” Seungcheol asks. The older angel peers over the railing and snickers. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a cupid.”

“Nah, I don’t like romance,” Jihoon says. His sincere smile contradicts his words. “My job is easier if they’re together.”

\---

_[Angels we have heard / Angels we have heard on high](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAMzAIH12yc) _

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I link the Pentatonix version? Maybe. LOL
> 
> This is an attempt to make good on my "before the end of the year" promise, but I forgot that I was actually >50% behind LOL so hi. I will probably have the next chp up pretty soon too 'cause i was pmuch writing these in my head all christmas-new years. I will try to finish these before the end of January (i think I can manage that LOL)
> 
> But yeah! I decided to do a little twist on the whole guardian angel idea? ^^ I always like to find twists to popular cliches~ It one point, i actually stopped at jun's POV but then i was like "hmm, it would be fun to tell exactly what happened" so it became like an almost 3K thing. SO JUNSHUA! :D Cute cute pairing and I would actually love to write a follow up on Jun finding out that Josh ISN'T his guardian angel XDDD 
> 
> Hope everyone has a wonderful start of their year!

**Author's Note:**

> ^o^)/ Thank you to everyone who requested! Hopefully, it'll bring a little holiday cheer~ 
> 
> Schedule:  
> 12/13: Cheolsoo - All I want for Christmas is you  
> 12/14: Wonhui - Dashing Through the Snow in Highheels  
> 12/15: Juncheol - O Christmas Tree  
> 12/16: Cheolgyu - Jingle Bell Rock  
> 12/17: Gyuhao - Let it Snow  
> 12/18: Gyuhao - I saw mama kissing santa claus - jackson 5  
> 12/19: Junshua - Angels we have heard on high  
> 12/20: Cheolhao - Deck the halls  
> 12/21: Soonhao - Santa Baby  
> 12/22: Junhan - Santa Tell me (ariana grande)  
> 12/23: Verhao - Baby it’s cold outside  
> 12/24: Jicheol - Silent Night  
> 12/25: Junhoon - Please Come Home for Christmas


End file.
